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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28648674">boxcar children</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/milo_the_fish/pseuds/milo_the_fish'>milo_the_fish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>desecration [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Child Abandonment, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Philza's A+ parenting, Resurrection, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit are siblings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:33:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28648674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/milo_the_fish/pseuds/milo_the_fish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilbur has some choice words for his father and brother, regarding Tommy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Phil Watson &amp; Dave | Technoblade, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>desecration [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SBI Fics to Make You Cry</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>boxcar children</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=stan%E2%80%94even+if+you+probably+hate+me">stan—even if you probably hate me</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     The first words that stumble out of Wilbur's mouth when he comes to is, "Where's Tom?" Phil doesn't know what to tell him, how to answer him, knowing that Tommy would not be happy to see either him or Techno, "He's resting at home, Will." The lie slips out of Phil's mouth easily, it sends an electric shock of cold through his heart when Wilbur slouches against him, a smile turning the edges of his mouth upwards. He whispers, "<em>Good</em>," voice slightly slurred as the overstimulation of being human again drained him. Wilbur goes limp in his arms, and Phil tilts his head towards Techno, indicating for him to pick up his brother's legs. Techno swiftly picks up his boots, placing one on each hip and giving a small grunt, and Phil starts to walk backwards.</p><p>     It's a messy trip back to the house, the snow making it hard for Phil to walk backwards despite his thick boots, but they are able to get him in the door, placing him on the ground. He is leaning against a box, his head drooping towards the wooden floor. Phil checks the extra bedroom, fluffing the pillows and preparing the washcloths and bandages. Techno was making sure they had enough heal pots, and seeing if they have the supplies to turn him back into a human if he accidentally becomes like some of the zombie villagers they have encountered before. They return to him quickly, finding a way to get him up the ladder, and they place him on the bed. Luckily when Phil had killed Ghostbur, the sword snapped in two, impaling Wilbur only a little bit, the slight blood loss was contributing to his current slurring words and little giggles.</p><p>     They make quick work of the wound and are able to patch up Wilbur at an efficient speed, meaning his life would be spared. He would live to see tomorrow, and just at the thought of it Phil sat back in his chair and let out a sigh of relief. All they have to do is wait, or at least see if he gets infected, which shouldn’t be so awful with a couple of potions, but still is the less favorable option. Phil hopes he’ll be back on his feet the next coming days, they’re going to need to catch him up on a lot. The two of them decide to give him some privacy, settling in their own rooms for the evening. They wouldn’t know of the chaos that would come of tomorrow.</p><p>     Phil wakes up to shouting, which wasn’t that uncommon when Tommy was staying with Techno, but is unusual to just him and Techno, Wilbur most likely still incapacitated in the guest room. He sits up in his bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and homing in on the voices. “-hy can’t I see him, Blade? He’s my brother! It’s not like he’ll be angry to see me.” Wilbur begs, his voice not reaching desperate levels yet. “No, Wilbur, you can’t- No, <em>no</em>, he is still sleeping probably,” a lie—Tommy has been staying with Tubbo since they finished off L’manberg. Phil decides to get up, knowing that Techno cannot hold of Wilbur for long, the one thing that the younger has over Techno is his ability with words to outwit or charm (<em>almost</em>) anyone. Phil walks towards the ladder starting to climb down.</p><p>     “What’s going on, mate?” He asks, looking between two of his sons. Wilbur sighs, “Tech won’t let me see Tommy.” He sounds tired, exhaustion seeping out of his words and absorbing into Phil. “He’s sleeping,” he lies, stepping towards the kitchenette to make some coffee. “He’s not, it’s way too late, Tom usually only sleeps until eight at the latest, it’s nine,” Wilbur mentions, motioning at the clock on the wall, and Phil isn’t sure if that’s supposed to be a lie, it sounds convincing with the genuine tone of his voice. “Tommy is slee-” Phil goes to mention again, “He’s <em>not</em>, stop bullshitting me,” Wilbur interrupts, his rage slowly building the more the two deny him his brother.</p><p>     “I am not,” Phil responds, filling up the kettle at the faucet, pumping the cold water into the metallic chamber. “You are,” Wilbur responds, “Both of you. I just want to see Tom, I need to know if he is alright, the last time I saw him-” he pauses, his head falling as he looks at his feet, guilt building in his stomach. “Wilbur, he’s fine,” Techno interjects, reaching out to take Wilbur’s forearm, but Wilbur pulls it towards himself before they touched. “He’s not, I can <em>feel it</em>,” Wilbur whines, looking away from the both of them, knowing they’d judge him for creating an emotional scene. “Last I saw him he was right as rain,” Phil lies again, replacing the lid of the kettle on and walking towards the fireplace, sliding the handle onto one of the metal rods.</p><p>     Wilbur raises an eyebrow at him, “Phil, how old is Tommy?” Techno and Phil turn to him, confusion heavy between them. “Isn’t he... 19?” Phil tries, cringing at the way his answer comes out unsure. They don’t expect the hysterical laughter that starts to wrack Wilbur’s body, tears falling down his face and he is doubled over, “<em>You can’t be serious</em>,” he cackles, “You don’t even know the age of your youngest son, what a <em>sensational </em>father you are, Philza.” He sputters for a few moments, “That’s- You- I <em>am </em>a good dad, Will.” Wilbur snickers, “What’s Tommy’s favorite animal, Phil? What’s his favorite color? What was his first word? What was the name of his first pet? Hell, what’s his middle name? If you’re <em>such</em> a good dad, answer all of those questions.”</p><p>     “Well, I- his favorite animal is a dog, right?” Phil tries, bracing himself, and that’s when Wilbur makes a sound which sounds very much like denial, “Tom’s <em>favorite </em>animal is cows, especially the mooshroom variety that grow deep in the forest. Take a crack at the next one, Phil.”</p><p>     Phil gulps, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back, “It’s obvious, red, it’s all he wears!” He laughs in relief, like he had just won, but that’s when Wilbur makes the same sound, <em>denied</em>. “Wrong, his favorite color is green,” Wilbur says, and his eyes are angry, “Go on, then, Dadza, show us what you got,” he laughs, malicious energy oozing from his growing anger. Phil had never really seen Wilbur like this, a dark understanding and knowledge above Phil’s own, it’s not even the same man who he killed in the detonation room. “His first word, I- Uhm, I- It- It was... It...” He stutters, “How do we even know if you are telling the truth, Wilbur?” Phil is saved by Techno interrupting his sputtering. “If Tom is here, bring him to me and he will tell you how <em>correct </em>I am, or is he even here? Anyways, times up Philza, his first word was <em>‘Wil’</em>, not like you would’ve remembered that one,” he continues, the dissatisfaction with Phil’s answers. “Embarrass yourself more, Phil, answer the last two in one go.”</p><p>     “Was- Wasn’t it Henry? And his middle name was... Jordan?” He forces out, looking at Wilbur and flinches as he makes the noise for a final time. “Wow, zero out of zero <em>Dadza</em>, such a <em>brilliant </em>and <em>loving </em>father, everyone! His first pet was named Mr. Scrambles, and his middle name is Malachias.” Wilbur stares him down, “You see, Phil you would’ve known all the answers to those questions if you had read my letters, if you had spent even a fucking <em>second</em> at home with us, those were not even the most sacred of the ‘Tommy Trivia’ that I know, you wanna know why?” Wilbur spits, staring at both Phil and Techno, his shoulders are tense, and his brows furrowed.</p><p>     “I <em>raised </em>him, Phil, I raised that boy since he was only a baby,” he steps towards, sending Phil to take a step back, “I changed his diapers, I taught him the alphabet, I taught him how to walk and fight, I taught him <em>everything</em> he knows.” He steps even closer, pointing at Phil, “None of anything that compromises Tommy is you, or Techno, the boy is <em>more <strong>my son</strong></em> than he is yours, he is <em>more <strong>my brother</strong></em> than Techno, that kid that you continue to neglect and treat like a failure is my greatest masterpiece. He is <em>my magnum opus</em>, not L’Manberg, not the revolution. You want to know <em>why</em>?”</p><p>     He gets in Phil’s face, his dark eyes hooded in shadows, “Because I put my <em>blood, sweat, and tears</em> into raising him, educating him, training him, giving him everything that he wanted with my limited power.” Wilbur grinds his teeth at Phil, “I <em>love </em>that boy, that child, <em>my Tommy</em> with my whole entire being, and maybe towards the end of my life last time had been bumpy, I mistreated him—which Techno you do not get a pass for urging me to blow up our home, for allowing me to hurt him—but I digress, the difference between<em> you</em> and <strong>me</strong>, Phil, was that even at my least sane, my <em>most </em>apathetic, I still held him when he had nightmares and panic attacks, I held his hand and helped him eat when he had his episodes, I still gave him attention, I <em>still </em>cared for him even when I had lost it.” He sneers down at Phil, “You have done nothing for Tommy, <em>nothing</em>, besides hurt him, betray him, <em>abandon him</em>, at least when I was a <em>ghost</em> I visited him in exile, which was <em>lovely </em>because neither of you stopped Dream from <strong>destroying </strong><em>my boy.</em>”</p><p>     He seethes, “You both sat on your <em>hands</em>, eventually teaming up with him, <em>against</em> <strong><em>my son</em></strong><em>. </em>Neither of you thought about what that would do to him, how much it would hurt him, what, <em>did my traumatized sixteen-year-old son hurt your feelings</em>? Boo-fucking-hoo. How do you think he feels?” Wilbur snarls, “Tommy has been through so goddamn much, so much <em>more</em> than your limited minds can handle, you know <em>nothing</em> about him, <strong><em>nothing</em>. </strong>And don’t ask if you can ‘get to know him’, it is too late for that, for your redemption. I hope the voices guilt you for this, <em>both of you</em>. It’s the least you deadbeats deserve,” Wilbur steps back, “Now, tell me where he is and I’ll be on my way out of this tundra.”</p><p>    “I saw him with Tubbo in a dirt shack near the Prime Path,” Techno replies, and Wilbur smiles, but it feels more like a snapping and sharp maw, “Great, I’ll be on my way. I have a <em>son</em>,” his glance strikes Phil like a sword, sharp and blunt, “to go and comfort.” He takes one of the coats from the coat-tree and slams the door shut behind him. Techno and Phil share a look with each other, and it’s a quick decision for Techno to take a chest’s worth of invisibility potions and follow Wilbur. His younger brother hasn’t looked back, stomping through the snow and stalking closer towards the destroyed crater of L’Manberg, which Wilbur must’ve remembered, because he mentioned Tommy’s exile. He tries to keep quiet the whole entire time he tails him, making sure that he doesn’t accidentally hurt anyone to get to Tommy. When they reach the Prime Path, Techno watches as Wilbur shuffles into the trees, searching for Tommy without being noticed by the other residents.</p><p>     They reach the new dirt shack that now is home to Tubbo and Tommy, he slips behind a tree to watch the new interactions from afar. Wilbur steps in, knocking on the wall, “Tommy?” His voice sounds fragile, like if it was tapped lightly it would shatter. In one of the rooms, he can hear discs being played, most likely Tommy. He tip-toes towards the doorless room, peeking in and seeing his brother sitting between his crafting table and ender-chest, holding his knees to his chest. The jukebox is across the room and playing a track he hasn’t heard before. “Tom?” He asks, trying to keep the relief from making his voice shake. Tommy’s head shoots up, “Ghostbur?”</p><p>     Wilbur chuckles, stepping into the doorway, “I wouldn’t exactly say that, gremlin child.” The boy’s eyes widen, staring at Wilbur and searching him up and down, “You- You’re back?” The disbelief is thick in his voice, and Wilbur just smiles at him. “I can taste things and feel things, so I assume so, Toms.” Tommy rushes to his feet, and he keeps looking at him, mouth agape, and that’s when Wilbur opens his arms, “Come ‘ere, Tommy.” Before he can even say another word, Tommy is against his chest and squeezing him so tight he isn’t sure he’s breathing. “You’re never allowed to die again, Will,” Tommy murmurs, Wilbur just lets out a small laugh, “I’m not planning to leave your side ever again, bubba, you have my word.” Wilbur doesn’t need to look at Tommy to know he is smiling, “<em>Good</em>.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so i hopped on the bandwagon of protective wilbur going off on techno and phil because oooh do those bitches kinda deserve it at this point (not techno mainly dw it’s mainly me being angry at dsmp phil he’s such a shit dad)</p><p> <a> my new twitter :) </a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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